


Grief

by leit_sed3



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholic Dean Winchester, Angry Dean Winchester, Angst, Crying Dean, Depressed Dean, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Season/Series 13 Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 04:44:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12335724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leit_sed3/pseuds/leit_sed3
Summary: Dean goes through the 5 stages after Cas dies.





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> A hasty mini fic thrown together before S13 premieres tomorrow! We know Cas comes back, so don't worry.

**Denial**

I don’t know how long I knelt there next to him. I lost feeling in my legs, but I couldn’t care enough to move. I wanted to reach down, shake him. But maybe if I don’t touch him, it’s not real. He’s just sleeping, and I don’t want to wake him yet _._ I ignore the scorch marks on the sand and focus on his face. _You watched over me while I slept. Now it’s time for me to return the favor. Don’t worry, Cas. You can sleep tight._

 “Dean?” Sam’s voice shakes me from my watch. “Gosh, it’s freezing out here! Come inside. There’s someone I want you to meet.” “No, Sammy. I can’t wake him yet.” I reply numbly.

**Anger**

“Dean.” Sam says gently. “You know that’s not true; you have to accept it. We need to get Jack and keep moving-”

“And go where?!” I snap. “The bunker is a crap-fest, mom is missing, and Cas is-” I choke back a sob and try to stand, but my legs are still numb and I stumble. Sam steps forward to help me up. “Don’t touch me!” I snarl. “Dean-” “No, Sam! He’s dead! Cas is dead and he’s never coming back.” My tears are running freely now. I turn back to Cas. “Why did you leave me?!” I scream. “Why is this happening? You can’t just leave! You can’t-” I break down in sobs and Sam puts his arm around me. I bury my face into his jacket. “He didn’t know, Sammy. I never told him…”

**Bargaining**

Sam and Jack have left in Cas’s truck with all the belongings in the house. The smell of smoke still lingers from our pyre for Kelly.

I carry Cas to the car. Pausing a moment before opening the door, I look back at the winged scorch marks on the sand where Cas fell. _This can’t be happening._ I lay him in the backseat and quickly head out before my thoughts can catch up.

The radio is silent on my drive back. I focus on directions and how to deal with Jack. A pothole in the road makes me swerve slightly and I hear Cas’s body thud onto the car floor. I pull over immediately and jump out in time for me to throw up into the grass. I stand there, panting for a moment and then re-arrange Cas in the back seat. I scan him for any injuries and notice his lips are slightly blue. I slam the door shut and slide down the side until I’m sitting against the tire. I close my eyes and lean my head back.

“God, I don’t know if you’re listening… but we, uh, need your help…”

**Depression**

I don’t leave the bunker. I always feel exhausted, so I sleep in longer and longer. I spend my day staring at the walls drinking and listening to that damn cassette I gave him. _It was in his coat pocket_ _._ I take another swig as Sam knocks on the door. “What?” I grumble. Sam steps away from the doorway for a moment. “Whew, Dean! It stinks in here, man.” His voice softens. “When was the last time you showered? Or went outside?”

“Don’t remember.” I mumble. “Don’t care.” Sam sighs and comes to kneel in front of me. “I know you need time. But we’ve been down before. Rock bottom. But we find a way. Because that’s what we do.”

I stare past him at the cassette on my desk and say nothing.

**Acceptance**

It’s been two weeks. “I have to let him go, Sammy.” Sam nods and we walk downstairs to our morgue. Sam pulls the table out and I try to prepare myself. Sam holds out a pair of gloves to me, but I shake my head. “It’s Cas, man.” Sam purses his lips and turn to the table and pulls the sheet back.

 He still looks the same. Same calm, pale face. Same blue tinged lips. His trenchcoat is smoothed out, probably by Sam, so it covers the knife wound. Sam looks over at me, nods to himself and murmurs “I’ll give you time.” He looks back at me from the doorway. “Maybe you should tell him now.”

I look down at Cas, knuckles white, gripping tightly onto the table. _Not asleep_. I remind myself. _Dead._ “You’re dead.” I say aloud. “I saw the scorch marks, I saw the blade. I know you’re gone.” I look up at the ceiling. “I know you have a plan. But, if for some reason, you feel like changin’ it, I’m all for a miracle right about now.”

I look back at Cas. “I wish I could see your eyes again. I wish I could have told you. You saved me, Cas. You saved my life because you showed me I was worthy of it. We wasted so much time, didn’t we? Mostly me. You probably never even knew. You know, that you were the one thing I never knew how much I needed?” I laugh ruefully. “That didn’t make sense…” I trail off a bit watching him. _Time to wrap it up, Winchester._ “Uh, well, I don’t know where Angels go after they die, but maybe… maybe I’ll see you again.”

A tear lands on his cheek and I’m momentarily confused as to where it came, until I realize that I’ve been crying. I reach down to wipe the tear and instinctively press my lips to his forehead. _First and last._ I turn back once before I reach the door. Castiel, the Angel who raised me from perdition. The Angel who saved me.

“Goodbye, Cas.”


End file.
